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Seven-day-a-week newspaper publishing revolution shatters The Mirror

May 30, 2012

The Rabelesian guffawing in The Mirror’s newsroom when Trinity Mirror’s chief executive announced her unlamented departure is now reduced to a sullen whisper.

Who will be next, the hacks timorously wonder as they survey the seismic damage caused by this morning’s fresh round of top-level sackings? Out, in short order, have gone Richard Wallace, editor of The Daily Mirror, and Tina Weaver, veteran editor of The Sunday Mirror. In has come Lloyd Embley (who? – formerly editor of the People) as the new editorial supremo of a “merged” 7-day-a-week Mirror newspaper.

In a classic example of tabloid double-think, Embley told his shell-shocked team: “This is not a slash and burn exercise. Nor is it about managing decline.”

Isn’t it, Lloyd? Difficult to see what else it might be. Certainly not a strategic decision, made from strength. Nor, to use some ghastly marketing jargon, is it “proactive”. Indeed, as so often in the world of newspapers, Rupert Murdoch continues to take the credit, having got there first with the 7-day Sun – while Trinity hobbles behind, a lame second. If the two editors were stunned by the manner of their summary dismissal this morning, they can hardly be surprised by its ultimate cause. All the circulation gains accruing to The Sunday Mirror after Murdoch unexpectedly closed the News of the World were wiped out almost overnight by his introduction of The Sun on Sunday.

If this brutal step-change really is, in the words of the Trinity statement, “a further step towards creating one of the most technologically advanced and operationally efficient newsrooms in Europe,” why on earth didn’t senior management have the courage of their convictions and implement it before?

Because, let’s face it, it isn’t really a step-change at all. And because, where newsrooms and newspapers are concerned, there are more important things than being “technologically advanced” and “operationally efficient”. Like keeping your journalists on side. Which is difficult when you are savagely cutting their numbers to achieve shareholder “value”.

What seems to have occurred here is some highly expedient corporate chicanery. How can it be that Sly Bailey, the lame duck outgoing chief executive, has been allowed to make these changes, changes she would never have dared to make before she resigned? Simple. The new board, and particularly the new chairman David Grigson, needs someone to hide behind, someone who is now totally expendable.

This may not have been Grigson’s only calculus, however. The suspicion is Trinity used this occasion to cleanse its Augean Stables. We’re still waiting to hear the full unexpurgated version of former Mirror editor Piers Morgan’s flirtatious relationship with the truth about phone-hacking, but last week moved a little closer to full disclosure with Jeremy Paxman’s testimony to the Leveson Inquiry. Wallace and Weaver were both later contemporaries of Morgan, who stepped down from the Mirror in 2004. Like two Wise Monkeys, they have joined Morgan in a deaf-and-dumb denial of complicity in phone-hacking culture. Which – who knows? – may be entirely justified. But just in case, why not get rid of them at this opportune moment? They are, in any case, very expensive; and they were, no doubt, utterly opposed to the concept of sacrificing one of their editorships on the altar of a 7-day newspaper.

And yet the real casualty here is the brand. Sunday newspapers, and not just red-top Sundays, are looking like an endangered species. Who will be next to join the 7-day bandwagon? The Independent/Independent on Sunday? The Guardian/Observer?

Sunday newspapers are being eroded not simply by shrink-fit publishing economics but by changing reading habits. After all, who these days seeks the wow-factor of a good old-fashioned scoop over their Sunday bacon and eggs?

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Grazia and News of the World – they’re as bad as each other

August 12, 2011

Once again, the media has been caught hacking into our Royals’ most intimate details. In this case, it’s Grazia, the fashion magazine, that has been forced into a red-faced confession.

The hacking was performed on Her Most Gracious Highness the Duchess of Cambridge’s vital statistics. The magazine’s publisher, Bauer Media, have fessed up to wilfully carving at least an inch or two from their cover girl’s waist in a blatant attempt to boost circulation.

Unlike the revelations surrounding News of the World royal correspondent Clive Goodman’s attempts to hack into the voicemails of Harry and Wills’ aides for salacious tittle-tattle, this particular exposé is unlikely to rock the nation to its marrow.

That said, it’s worth asking why these two incidents merit a different scale of reaction. To be sure, one is deemed illegal while the other is not. On the other hand, both activities imply a similar, depleted, set of moral values. Both use cynical deception and dishonesty to achieve their ends. Both parasitically exploit the lives of celebrities, one by attempting to degrade them, the other by fawning and flattering their figures. Both deploy lame and implausible excuses when caught in the glare of exposure – betraying a smug belief in the public’s infinite gullibility.

Grazia, whose May 9 issue was in the dock at the Press Complaints Commission (soon to be decommissioned after doing such a sterling job in tackling the phone-hacking scandal), is not of course alone in perpetrating this kind of thing. Doctoring of images is a widely condoned practice, in advertising as well as editorial.

From time immemorial the Advertising Standards Authority has inveighed against advertisers, usually in the health and beauty sector, who impossibly idealise their models, sometimes to the extent of manipulating their skin tint. With little effect it would seem.

L’Oréal, a recidivist with multiple offences on its ASA charge sheet, has recently been caught at it again. This time for digitally touching up images of actress Julia Roberts and supermodel Christy Turlington.

The ads were withdrawn, but the offence had already been committed. And it will be committed again, albeit in a different guise.

What we are talking about here, to highjack a buzz phrase used to explain the recent riots, is a culture of impunity.


Former Sun and NoW boss Mike Anderson launches smartphone apps company

May 19, 2010

Mike Anderson, former managing director of The Sun and News of the World, is launching a company specialising in building and marketing mobile phone applications for smartphones. Handheld Company, based in Chelsea, opens its doors this month.

Anderson believes that with smartphones – such as the iPhone, Blackberry and Google-spawned Android handsets – becoming cheaper, more efficient and popular, the mobile platform is finally coming of age as a commercial opportunity. And that the way ahead is to be found in the development of apps that work effectively across platforms.

Anderson tells me: “Most brands, and agencies, don’t yet understand that there’s an opportunity beyond Apple and the iPhone, which account for most of the 200,000 apps currently available. This business is just taking off, with a lot of smarter apps about to come on stream. But the rhythm of publishing, the model, isn’t yet established. There’s a shortage of good developers and lots of ‘garage’ moms and pops out there. Few understand how to go to market, fewer still how to make money. And no one yet has grabbed enough land to be a significant player. There’s a lot of consolidation coming in the next 18 months.” Anderson sees the business evolving along the same lines as the record and computer games industry, with successful developers and labels commanding “rock star” status and fortunes.

Handset Company is based in a converted warehouse, dubbed the Chelsea Apps Factory, and has an initial staff – comprising designers, software and marketing specialists – of about 30. Much of the start-up capital has been provided by Anderson and his partners, but he is now initiating a private equity funding round.

Anderson has had a long career in the newspaper industry, punctuated by short spells in commercial television and as a media buyer. Before joining News International as managing director of News Group Newspapers in 2005, he was md of The Standard, and before that founding md of the successful freesheet, Metro – both at that time owned by Associated Newspapers. Anderson finally stepped down at News International in autumn last year, after tragedy blighted his private life. His wife, Jane, died of cancer, leaving him to bring up three children. In his own words: “It was a difficult time – it is very different being a single parent… When I came back, News International couldn’t find a role for me. They tried to find something, but I thought the best thing to do would be to get out and do what I believe in.” Initially, he set up a consultancy, Frank Business – one of his clients being The Sun.

At Handheld Company, Anderson’s partners are Mike Spencer, former marketing director of QVC Shopping Channel and the Disney Channel Europe; mobile content specialist Gordon Robson; Jo Rabin, former chief technical officer of Reuters Mobile Flirtomatic; and communciations and brand specialist Jane Allan.


Pinning the donkey’s tail to Eady’s ass

December 14, 2009

The appropriately-named Mr Bumble, in Oliver Twist, first coined the phrase “the law is an ass”. Charles Dickens stopped well short of naming names, however.

These days we are more fortunate in being able to pin the donkey’s tail on someone’s posterior: that of Mr Justice Eady. Eady has emerged from the lofty otherworldliness of his profession to deliver some judgements of stunning asininity over the past couple of years.

I don’t often find myself in agreement with Paul Dacre, editor in chief of Associated Newspapers. But last month I was prepared to let bygones be bygones when he castigated Eady for his “arrogant and amoral” judgements which were “inexorably and insidiously” imposing a privacy law on British newspapers.

You’ll probably need no reminding that it was Eady who found in favour of Max Mosley, former president of the FIA motor racing body, in his privacy case against the News of the World two years ago. To let Dacre paraphrase: Eady “effectively ruled that it was perfectly acceptable for the multi-millionaire head of a multi-billion sport followed by countless young people to pay five women £2,500 to take part in acts of unimaginable sexual depravity.”

And it was Eady again who got a proper wigging from the appeal court after his manifestly biased judgement favouring foul-mouthed newspaper baron Richard Desmond in a libel action against Desmond’s very unauthorised biographer, Tom Bower. In July, the appeal court found that Eady’s decision was “plainly wrong” and risked “a miscarriage of justice”.

All too easily we might believe it was Eady who decided on the utter propriety of gagging newspapers from reporting a parliamentary question about the ne’er-do-well dumping activities of Trafigura off the Ivory Coast – during the so-called super-injunction affair. But I’m told that is not true. Eady did not on this occasion have to be consulted, although I have little doubt where his sympathies would have lain had things got that far. There are plenty of other examples of “Eady’s Law” which help  to confirm my worst suspicions.

Lewd and suggestive?

But here’s the real corker. Eady has now awarded Tiger Woods an injunction which bans anyone from publishing pictures of the golfing legend naked, or with any parts of his body exposed. Theoretically, that would exclude just about every publicity picture ever taken of Woods in his golfing kit; and certainly most of the stuff on his own website; it would exclude those semi-naked and oh-so-lewd shots of Wood shaving himself in the Gillette ads; and all that bare-armed stuff about being a Tiger in the Accenture campaign (not, of course, the reason why these two sponsors are dropping him). Surreally,  a pompous covering note attached to the injunction states: “For the avoidance of doubt this order is not to be taken as an admission that any such photographs do exist, and it is not admitted, any such images may have been fabricated, altered, manipulated and or changed to create the false appearance and impression that they are nude photographs of our client.”

True asinine gibberish. I bet teeth are really chattering at the (extra-jurisdictional) National Enquirer after reading that.

Eady is apparently puzzled and upset at the negative publicity he is receiving, in just the same way that Brian Hutton was puzzled and upset at criticism for the wrong-headed conclusions he drew from his eponymous Inquiry. These people don’t seem to understand that they live within an open society, not above it. O tempora, o mores.


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